


The Wizard in Exile

by RaeC



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-06-02
Updated: 2002-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-10 12:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeC/pseuds/RaeC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forgiving yourself isn't a sin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wizard in Exile

\---  
  
You know...coming back from a mission alive is a good thing, a real good thing. Everything intact, no new holes or scars to add to my collection. Mama bug happily splattered all over the ocean floor. Yep, I'm one happy camper. It's those little things that do it every time.   
  
Being alive *really* does it for me: that happy, happy, joy, joy feeling that sneaks in just before the crash and burn. It's the same every time: I'm on top of the world, excited and then boom, the guilt sets in. For a little while I can't help wonder why them and not me.   
  
All these young faces around me and I'm the one who walks away. Men and women barely beginning their lives. All it takes is one staff blast and they're gone. Sure, we've saved the world...again...but at what cost? How many lives is a planet worth? One? Two? A thousand? Tens of thousands? And why do I get the feeling that it may run in the millions before we're free of the Goa'uld?  
  
A life here, a life there. It all adds up. Is what we're doing even right?   
  
Sometimes I just need to feel ordinary. The General understands; I think he understands too well sometimes. The ones that come back alive don't necessarily come back whole. But having been in this spot so many times before, stood over the graves of men I barely knew and those I knew well...it gets to the point where all you have left are ghosts. And that's when I know I have to get away.   
  
~~~  
  
"Jesus H. Christ!" If it wasn't enough that Sara had to drop all of this crap on him, but did he have to kill himself taking it in the house? Just as he picked up the last box, the door slammed shut; Murphy's Law. It seemed as if the whole world was against him this week. Sighing, Jack pressed the box against the wall and wrenched the door open.   
  
What the hell was in here anyway? Jack tried to remember. Books, the damn things were mostly filled with books. It'd been years since he'd seen most of this stuff. He was really tempted to just haul them all down to the curb and let the garbage men deal with them. Or the junk men, whoever got there first.   
  
Jack tossed the last box inside and slammed the door shut in frustration. First, Sara shows up out of the blue all smiles and chatty, then she dumps a load of his past right into his lap. Wonderful, the perfect cap off to an all around shitty week. Ninety-six hours to himself and what was he going to be doing? Why, working of course. Why not? He didn't have anything better to do.  
  
Sarcasm is not going to get you anywhere, O'Neill. Sighing, Jack dug through the mess, separating out those boxes that were marked and the ones that weren't. 'Baseball Stuff.' Well that was original. 'Books.' More boxes marked books. A hockey stick. A rock collection of all things. His old tackle box. How in the hell did he manage to collect so much junk?  
  
"I need a beer." Jack spoke to the room at large. "A really cold beer."  
  
All he had wanted to do this weekend was sit in front of the TV and veg. Couldn't she just have tossed it all into storage...or something? It wasn't like he *needed* his old camping gear or his grandmother's good china. They were memories of times better left alone.  
  
His medals.   
  
Jack felt the beginnings of the shakes coming on. He didn't know which was worse, remembering or not remembering. And right now, remembering was taking front and center. This is what he was supposed to be avoiding this weekend, not dredging up.   
  
He decided he needed something to fortify himself before continuing this little trip down memory lane. Grabbing a beer from the fridge, Jack chugged the entire thing and grabbed another before heading back to the living room. As much as he wanted to just call Goodwill, there were some things in these boxes that he couldn't throw away, pieces of his past that were happy.   
  
Charlie's baseball mitt.  
  
His old hockey puck.  
  
Pictures of his parents, his grandparents.  
  
So many memories tied up in those pictures. Winters spent in front of the fire at his grandparents' farm. Boating on Lake Erie during the summer. His first fish, boy was that one a whopper. Jack chuckled. Two whole inches.   
  
A knock brought him back to the present. Thinking Sara forgot something, Jack threw open the door. "Daniel? What are you doing here?"  
  
"Nice to see you too, Jack."   
  
Jack absently brushed the dust off his jeans. "Now isn't a good time, Daniel."   
  
Daniel stuck his head inside. "What'd you do? Buy out someone's garage?" Daniel walked in, nodding his head. "I like the new look. Early poverty."   
  
"Very funny, Daniel. Ha, ha." Since Daniel had already invited himself, Jack shut the door. And as soon as he turned his back, what does Daniel do? Disappear around the corner, heading straight for the kitchen of course. "Say, I've got an idea. Why don't you come in and make yourself at home?"   
  
Daniel grinned. "Thanks, I think I will."  
  
"Any particular reason you dropped by?" Jack leaned against the counter as Daniel fiddled with the coffeepot.  
  
"Oh, just in the neighborhood." Daniel kept his back to Jack as if he were afraid to turn around.  
  
"Really?" Jack watched as Daniel wandered around the kitchen straightening the dishtowel, wiping off the counters, stood in the middle of the room as if he'd never been in the room before. Actually, Daniel knew most of the house like the back of his hand. What was going on?  
  
"Well, actually, I wanted to talk." Daniel turned around, his face serious.  
  
"You couldn't call?" Jack crossed his arms, irritated with whatever this was.  
  
"Would you have let me come over?" Well, just hit the head of nail why doncha?  
  
Jack chuckled, taking the hit for what it was. "Probably not." He grabbed another beer from the fridge, expecting Daniel to follow him back out to the living room.   
  
"You spend too much time alone, Jack."  
  
"It's how I deal with things, Daniel. You know that."  
  
"Well, maybe you shouldn't." Daniel wandered about the living room picking up the mess Jack had made over the last hour. It was a repeat of the kitchen all over again. "So, what are you doing?"  
  
"Daniel, what's the matter with you?" Jack watched as Daniel shuffled around. What was going on in that head of his? When Daniel started straightening things up, it usually meant that he had something important on his mind. And right now, Jack wanted nothing more than to touch him. A pat on the back, the arm. Too much had happened over the last few days. Men lost. His life held in the hands of his best friend.   
  
"Sorry." Daniel mumbled. Jack reached out to pat Daniel's shoulder. Big mistake.   
  
"Hey! Relax." Jack jerked his hand back. He had just meant to comfort Daniel not make him jump half way across the room. But who had he been trying to comfort, himself or Daniel? "I promise not to bite your head off."   
  
His eyes still on Daniel, Jack backed away slowly. "Did you ever notice how much stuff you collect over the years?" Jack asked casually.  
  
Daniel stood in the middle of the room looking lost, as if he if he didn't know how he had got there or what to do next.   
  
Sitting on the floor, Jack shifted through the boxes. He kept an eye on Daniel while he worked. Daniel would talk when he was ready.   
  
"What's this?" Daniel looked up from the small blue box he held in his hands opening it as he spoke.   
  
"Nothing." Jack's voice was gruff. "Just stick it in that box over there marked 'attic'."  
  
"Jack..." Daniel looked confused. "This is a Purple Heart."  
  
"Yeah, and?"  
  
"How can you just...toss it aside?"  
  
"Daniel, I'm..." Jack scrubbed at his face. "I don't want to talk about it. Would you just put it away?"  
  
"Would you have gotten another one for..."  
  
Sighing, Jack closed the box he was digging through and grabbed his beer. "Look, whatever is going on in that head of yours, forget it. People get hurt in the line of duty, Daniel. It's a fact of life. Now, are we done?"  
  
"No, actually..." Daniel paced around the room. "I need some coffee."  
  
"Suit yourself." Jack shrugged and held out his hand. "Daniel?"  
  
"Oh! Right." Daniel gave the medal to Jack, his fingers lingering for just a second on the box. "Jack," Daniel's eyes were dark, hard to read. "I'm glad you're okay."   
  
There was a moment there that Jack thought Daniel was going to say something else. And it didn't have anything to do with 'being glad'. Or maybe it did, but in a different kind of way. Or maybe Jack was just losing his mind and sensing something that wasn't there.  
  
Sighing, Jack got up off the floor and settled back into his favorite chair. The killing thing was bothering Daniel. Hell, it was bothering him too. Brought up all sorts of images of being left behind in Iraq. He never wanted to go through that again. Even being eaten by the bugs was better than that. But for Daniel, it was different. He didn't see killing Jack as a mercy, as something that needed to be done, but something that if given enough time, he could fix.   
  
Well, they were a pair weren't they? Jack barely heard Daniel rummaging around in the kitchen. What would that be like, to be alone all the time? No Daniel to annoy him, pry, pull, twist until he got the answers he was looking for. Or his laughter. Suddenly, the house seemed empty again. When had Jack gotten used to having Daniel around?   
  
"You never answered my question."   
  
Startled, Jack jerked back from his thoughts to concentrate on Daniel. "What's that?"  
  
"What's with all the boxes?" Daniel sat his mug on the coffee table, his eyes unreadable again.  
  
"Sara." Jack pulled out an old photo album from a box sitting next to him. "She cleaned out the attic this week."   
  
"Can I see?"  
  
"Sure."   
  
"Charlie?"   
  
"Yeah." Jack left Daniel alone with the pictures and headed for the kitchen. He needed another beer. Bad. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Daniel digging through yet another box. Better make it two.   
  
"Uh, Jack?"   
  
Oh no, here we go again. Daniel had *that* look on his face. Can't he just be like any other normal guy and drop it?   
  
"King Arthur?" Daniel said, bemused.  
  
With a resigned sigh, Jack headed for the living room. After all, what's the worst that could happen? Mumbling under his breath, he took the book from Daniel and stuffed it in the box for Goodwill.   
  
Okay, so it didn't look like Daniel was going to let it go. "What?"   
  
"Jack..."   
  
Give a guy a break already. "I said, 'What's the matter with King Arthur'."   
  
"Well, I just never pictured you as the type."   
  
"Just what type is that?"   
  
"Oh I don't know...the fair maiden, chasing after windmills, knight in shining armor type." Daniel smirked.  
  
"Not that Don Quxiote didn't have his good points, but I was actually more interested in Merlin." Nonchalantly, Jack twirled the beer bottle in his hand.   
  
Daniel near spit his coffee all over the room. It was a close call between choking, laughing, and generally making a mess. "Merlin!? Come on, Jack. You?"  
  
"What's so hard to believe, Daniel?"   
  
"Mr. Military? I can't imagine you reading anything but "How to" books to begin with, Jack, but fantasy?" Daniel shook his head in denial.   
  
Jack leaned on his hand. "I do have an imagination you know."  
  
"I swear, if I find D&D figurines in here, I'll know this isn't your stuff."  
  
Jack laughed. "No, Daniel. I was too busy playing hockey and stickball. Besides, only geeks played Dungeons and Dragons." He winked at Daniel.  
  
"Hey!" Daniel threw a pillow at Jack. "I did *not* play D&D."  
  
"I see you're not denying the 'geek' part." Soon, both Jack and Daniel were snickering.  
  
"Now, back to the subject at hand..." Daniel fidgeted on the sofa, clearly impatient for Jack to get on with it.   
  
Jack moaned and buried his face in his hands. "There's no distracting you when you've found a bone is there?"  
  
"I'm an archeologist not a paleontologist, Jack, but your answer is no." Daniel grinned wickedly.  
  
"No chance of bribing you?" Jack wasn't serious. He'd already given up on trying to find something else to talk about. Daniel was here. He was here. His past was spread out all over the living room floor.   
  
"Not on your life. Now spill."   
  
"What's there to tell? I like Merlin. The guy was a genius."   
  
"A genius how?"  
  
"Here's this land, on the edge of extinction. Ready to totally wipe itself out. Eaten from within. And this guy Merlin can foresee the future. So he plans. Manipulates people, events. Sets it all up. Twenty years later he puts events into motion that will save not his people, but an entire race. I'd call that brilliant, wouldn't you?"   
  
"Well, yeah."   
  
"Merlin made kings." Jack glanced over at Daniel. "Same way like Rasputin tried to control them. Always from behind the scenes."  
  
Daniel was so quiet that Jack began to get worried. Okay what did he say wrong now?  
  
Then Daniel burst out laughing. "Um, Jack?" Daniel paused to breath. "Where have you been hiding this person?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"This..." Daniel waved his hand in Jack's direction. "This guy who debates philosophy."  
  
Jack laughed yet again. "I'm still the same person, Daniel."  
  
"But why do you make yourself seem so..." Suppressing a smirk, Jack watched Daniel flounder for the right thing to say. They'd been friends for what, five years, and Daniel still didn't know all that much about him.   
  
"Stupid? Dumb? A few fries short of a happy meal?" Jack snickered. "Daniel, not that I don't enjoy a good conversation now and then, but the middle of a fire fight just isn't the best place for it. Besides," Jack aimed his beer bottle at Daniel. "Between you and Carter, I'm lucky to get a word in edgewise."   
  
Watching Daniel's reactions was starting to become a habit. Right now the man was blushing, his hands fiddling with his coffee cup yet again. Jack cocked his head to the side. You know, in this light Daniel looked...  
  
Let's not go there, Jack. Off limits. Forbidden territory. Just great, now his mood was ruined.   
  
"So Daniel..." Jack took a swig of his beer. "Why *did* you drop by today?"  
  
"I needed to see," Daniel took a deep breath, "I needed to make sure that you were alive."   
  
"What?" Jack jumped up from the chair and paced from one end of the living room to the other. This was worse than he thought. A little misplaced guilt sure, but doubt?  
  
"Alive, whole, in one piece." Daniel shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his coffee. "I..."  
  
Jack had the urge to just shake some sense into the man. And right now that urge was making his fingers itch. Shake him, hug him, or beat some sense into him. A thought occurred to Jack. Daniel hadn't moved from the sofa since he'd come from the kitchen with his coffee. Why? Brain surgery this wasn't.   
  
Jack crossed the room and knelt at Daniel's side, his hand on Daniel's knee. "Daniel, I'm real. I'm alive. I'm not going anywhere. At least not today."  
  
A smile teased at the corners of Daniel's mouth for just second. "I've never had to make a decision like that before. You know."   
  
Yeah, I do. And it never gets any easier, Danny boy. The trick was to keep talking. "Like what?"   
  
"To...to kill someone I know and care about. You're my friend, Jack. I just couldn't. When it came down to it, I couldn't kill you."  
  
"Daniel." Jack waited for Daniel to look up, but when he didn't, Jack spoke again. "Daniel...look at me."  
  
Daniel did, guilt written all over his face. Jack winced. Pain, anger, and guilt all warred for prominence. Would Jack have been able to push that button if the shoe had been on the other foot? It wasn't something he really wanted to think about. Not where Daniel was concerned. How many times had Daniel been left behind already? Or close to death's door?   
  
That was it, wasn't it? Daniel thinking he'd failed.   
  
"I shouldn't have asked you to begin with."   
  
"And if you'd left it in Davis' hands, both you and Teal'c would be dead."   
  
"You can't live your life by 'what ifs', Daniel. You can't go back and question yourself over and over again. If you do, you'll only eat yourself alive. I'm here." Jack spread his arms wide. "I'm alive. Teal'c's back at the base, alive."  
  
Daniel starred at his lap again.   
  
"No, don't tell me." Jack held up his hand. "You've already checked."  
  
Nodding his head, Daniel couldn't help but grin. Jack laughed. "You're a piece of work, you know that?" Patting Daniel on the back, Jack got up and started on the boxes again. Can't live your life by what ifs. Maybe it was time he took his own advice. He wasn't God. He couldn't bring anyone back to life. Some things were just what they were. Like right now. Just two ordinary guys doing ordinary everyday things.  
  
"You know, Jack. I just had a thought." Uh oh, here we go again. What set this one off? Daniel had a map spread out in front him studying it intently. One of those fake ones set up to look like a map from the Middle Ages. Arthur astride his horse galloping across the UK. Sea Serpents attacking ships in the Ocean. Quasi-what-his-face curling around a temple that dripped with blood in South America. Marco Polo trekking across the Middle East on his way to China.   
  
What could possibly be of interest to Daniel there? "What?"   
  
"You know how most legends have some grain of truth?"   
  
"Yeah?" Jack waited for the bomb to fall.  
  
"What if Merlin was based on say, visitors from outer space?"   
  
Jack shook his head and mentally started searching for the lost marbles. They had to be around somewhere. "Not everything has to do with aliens, Daniel."  
  
Batting Jack's hands away, Daniel pointed to the map in front of him. "No, listen. I'm serious. Think about it. You've got all these people running around witnessing strange things and the only way they can explain them is through supernatural or magical means. It's happened over and over again in culture after culture."   
  
"So what does any of this have to do with Merlin."   
  
"I'm getting there." Daniel said. "What if Merlin wasn't a magician, but an alien with very advanced technology. Someone trying to point humanity on the right path?"  
  
"You're going to have to work harder on that theory, Dr. Jackson. That one has more holes than your pyramid thingy."   
  
Daniel laughed. Jack wasn't dismissing him out of hand, but he wasn't quite ready to believe yet either.   
  
"Okay, okay, okay. So it needs work, but you have to admit a sword rising from a lake or being stuck in a stone that only one genetic code could touch? Or what about breathing in water? They have technology at NASA that allows a human being to do that now. And the Nox could make you see what they wanted you to see, even raise the dead."  
  
"Okay, Daniel. You've made your point. Any particular species you have in mind for this little trip down history lane?"   
  
"The Asgard." Daniel answered smugly.  
  
"Oh what? Taking on the Norse Gods wasn't enough? Now you're making them into Anglo-Saxon legends as well?"   
  
"No, I just think Merlin and Thor have a lot in common. And that the legend could have grown over time."   
  
"Thor!?"  
  
Daniel laughed. "Wasn't there something about returning in Britain's greatest hour of need. What if it wasn't 'Britain' but 'The World'."   
  
"That's stretching it a bit, don't you think? Besides that was Arthur." Jack settled back in his chair, relaxing despite himself.   
  
"Yes and no. There's the time when the Goa'uld almost took over Earth and the Asgard stepped in and afforded us their name as protection. Wouldn't you say that's almost as powerful as invoking Merlin's name during the Middle Ages?"   
  
"Sure, but...the Asgard can hardly save themselves. You saw that. And Merlin wasn't any better, depending on which legend you believe. Either way, he didn't have much luck with women."   
  
"Is the war with the Goa'uld, Earth's greatest hour of need?"   
  
"Could be." Jack nodded. "But it only goes to show one thing, Daniel and that's that we can only depend on ourselves." The treaty between the Goa'uld and Earth was a delay tactic anyway. The Asgard are getting their butts kicked by the replicators. No way they can drop in and help out right now.   
  
"That's kind of cynical, even for you Jack?"   
  
"You got a better one?" Jack shrugged. "The Asgard can't help themselves. The Tolan won't share any of their technology and who saves their asses? Us. The only ones who seem to be able defend themselves and don't take things for granted are the Nox. And they're pacifists. We don't have one ally that's willing to lay down their lives for us if it comes down to it."  
  
"What about the Tok'ra?" Daniel had some sort of weird smile on his face.   
"Oh please, Daniel. The Tok'ra *use* us. They help us when it's convenient for them or benefits them in some way. Jacob's even gone over to the Dark Side."   
  
"So...that just leaves us, huh?"  
  
"Are you planning on going somewhere with this soon?"  
  
"Merlin made kings, right? And the Asgard made a people. The difference between legend and fact is that legends aren't real, Jack. Just based in reality."  
  
Jack nodded. "Yup. Legends never die."  
  
"People *do*." Yeah, people do, don't they? That could have been any one of us. Almost was. Sometimes Daniel's too smart for his own good. Jack sighed.  
  
"So."  
  
"So."  
  
"You like genius', huh Jack?"   
  
"Yep." Jack smiled and licked his lips. This might be a good day after all. "They're way smarter than I am."  
  
~~~  
  
'We have only ourselves.' I heard that somewhere. We have to look inside ourselves and decide what's right, what's wrong. How much we can take.   
  
We can't wait around for anyone else to come rescue us from ourselves or from our enemies. After all, the wizard is in exile and it doesn't look like he's coming home anytime soon. There is only us. And the sooner we realize that, the better off we'll be. The stronger we'll become. It's time we stopped being the whipping boys for the Universe and make them give something back.   
  
We're out here on our own. We have to rely on ourselves. The decision to push buttons isn't always easy. And leaving someone behind isn't easy either, no matter how many times you've had to do it. The only thing you can do is, put the guilt behind you and move on.   
  
Life is for the living.  
  
We're only human after all. Ordinary.


End file.
